


Damsel in Euphoria

by reverse_the_jellybaby



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, PWP, harry sullivan had a really sultry voice and i'm not going to repent for my sins, this is just smut sorry about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reverse_the_jellybaby/pseuds/reverse_the_jellybaby
Summary: Harry Sullivan has a sexy bedroom voice, and he uses it to his advantage. I'm going to hell, and I'm taking you all with me.
Relationships: Sarah Jane Smith/Harry Sullivan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Damsel in Euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> Well hey there, internet!
> 
> Finally coming at you with the NEW CONTENT!!! So, this idea isn't entirely new to me. I actually began to write this back in 2014, but I really wanted to write doggy-style into this fic and I didn't know how to write it yet. Because I was baby, and very very virginal. Thus, I lost confidence in it. After that I really wasn't interested in writing fic anymore, so I just left it in my hard drive. 
> 
> Cut to the pAnOrAmA we're in now, and lockdown making me regress - I return to this fic and realise it's actually really good, and I'd really like to finally finish it! As I've said ad nauseum, I am now a Full Blown Adultie, and thus have some more insight into this topic. Make of that what you will. 
> 
> About half of this was written back in the day, but the rest was written during various points during the PaVLoVa in my spare time. 
> 
> I've been a bit rusty at writing eloquent prose, so it's taken my perfectionist brain a long time to be happy enough with it to publish, but I hope you like it! More content coming soon, as I've had so many new ideas. The next one will likely be the Owen/Gwen one, as I've hit my stride with it.

“You’re mine now, old thing,” he purred, lightly ghosting his finger from the underside of her neck towards her accented chin, slightly tilting to see all of her; assessing her. He ran the tip of his fingernail further, and further; out of sight, out of mind, sans the light sensation of goosepimples licking their way down her body in waves. 

Instinctively, her eyes rolled backwards and slid shut. Encouraged, he repeated the action, but this time his fingers no longer caressed, but lightly clawed their way down her body. He wanted her to know that this was no ordinary Harry. His usual bedroom demeanour consisted of a lot of “my apologies, old girl!” and gracious submission to his partner’s desires, but not today. He had long desired domination, and tonight was the night. Feminist diatribes be damned. 

His thumb encircled her lips, hovering his cool fingers over her burning, yet trembling skin. The ice-cold fingers startled her, sending another complimentary shiver down the base of her spine. Her eyes opened, tilted upwards to meet Harry’s, the gaze did not waver as she encased his finger in her mouth to leave it glistening with saliva. The finger made its way to his own mouth and he tasted her – it was decadent. 

Her breathing hitched; was caught, and controllably set free. Her hand encased the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to her. She made the first move, as to be expected from the headstrong journalist and firmly pressed her lips to his, forcing the lips open to circle her tongue across him – however instead of fulfilling her wishes, he simply stopped. This was not the correct method.

“Now, Sarah, let us not be too hasty. Up against that wall. Now.” His pitch curiously switched in his commands, and fear bolted down her spine. He edged her slowly towards the nearby wall; his hands against her shoulders – subtly caressing them.

A small chuckle escaped the man’s lips, “Are you alright, old girl? Should I keep going?”

Ah, there’s my Harry, she thought. She relaxed into his touches. 

“Y…yes…” she stuttered, attempting to remember how to speak properly.

“Good – now that I have your undivided attention - and of course your consent - let’s continue…” 

He drew closer to her again, she inviting him towards the side of her neck – to which he answered her beckon with the softest of kisses. Taking her by surprise, he nipped at the crease between her neck and shoulders and sucked at it. A deep sigh escaped the young journalist’s lips.

“Now, what to do with you? Such noises and yet – “

“Oh come now Harry – on with – “

“Did I ask you to speak, Miss Smith?”  
“N…no…but a woman is entitled to her own – “ He hastily muffled her words with his hand, briefly breaking character to loosen his grip to avoid hurting her.

But, there was to be no more of this interference. What to do? 

He reached for his tie, not taking his eyes off her as he slid it out of his collar and held it out to her. Leaning back towards her with that same unnerving expression, he returned to her ear and whispered to her, “push me away if you’ve had enough, Sarah – hold your hand straight out,” She laughed at his pedantic nature, nodded slightly and he daintily wrapped the tie across her mouth, knotted under and over behind her head and sealed it roughly. A soft moan – that stare again. 

“Now, now, now. Your shirt, please. “ He commanded, tutting at the young woman. She obeyed, lingering on each button as he felt his breathing quicken against her face, letting the soft silk slither to the ground before her. She nodded, slightly, to suggest he do the same. He obeyed. 

“Pants.” 

One button, two button, three, and she was exposed to him. He was growing impatient. He let out a huff – to which she misinterpreted and obliged by throwing off the thin lace undergarments. Harry couldn’t help but notice the damp fabric of her underwear signifying her growing wetness. He couldn’t wait to taste her. 

“Good. Very good,” he muttered, and whispered, “excellent, in fact.” She swallowed the giggle at his breach of character.

He reached for his belt, sliding it open and letting it slap against his waist, flinching slightly. He let his trousers fall to his feet, tiptoeing formally out of them, with his boxers joining the mountainous pile of clothing on the floor. Sarah couldn’t help but stare at his growing hardness as it smacked back against his stomach. He bent his head self-consciously at the attention.

“Ah, now we may commence.” He pulled her towards him by the waist, kissing her neck once more, drifting his tongue further and further and encasing her porcelain breasts in his mouth. He zeroed in on her perky little nipples for a moment and circled them with the edge of his tongue, being sure to give them both equal amounts of attention. Leaving a trail of saliva across her breasts and down her stomach, he revelled in her muffled pants, her head tipped back and eyes drifting shut.

Darting down to her belly button, he raised one leg up against the bed beside them and planted kisses up her inside thighs, massaging and caressing her waist and across her ass. However, he decided that now was the time for a woman to be heard. With a groan of frustration, he returned to meet her and removed the tie from her mouth, tossing it into the ether. Either that, or the lamp dominating the bedside table…but Harry was in no mood for speculation on such trivialities. 

“Hands behind your back, please.” 

Sarah was already too far-gone to question him, so she did as she was told. 

Harry fell to his knees and lightly teased his tongue up her labia, before parting them to tease the clit repetitively, feeling her writhe against him as he drew slow circles around her. She sighed into his touch, feeling as if her knees might give out if he kept this up. He began to alternate with slow licks up and down her centre. She tasted perhaps more exquisite than he’d imagined. She was soft and sweet and he couldn’t get enough of her. His nose and mouth were buried in her scent. Instinctively, Sarah began to buck her hips against his face, but he regained control by steadying her pelvis. She gasped as he picked up speed and intensity of his repetitions, clasping her hands on his head and - 

“Put those hands back where they belong!” he demanded.

“Oh please Harry, will you get on with it?” She panted, groaning in frustration.

“You must behave, Miss Smith. Then you shall receive what you want.” His menacing monotone struck fear – and perhaps a hint of lust through her, swiftly followed by a dull throb of her centre.

She could take it no more. Pushing him back against the bed, smirking at the loud “ooff!” that came out of his mouth, she retrieved control of the situation, as it should be. Straddling his body, she planted torturous kisses down his torso, causing him to writhe underneath her. 

She grabbed the base of his cock firmly and guided him confidently into her mouth, sliding him to the back of her throat as far as she could take him, then letting him naturally slide out of her mouth again to coat him in her saliva. She took a moment to look up at his already dishevelled face as she returned him to her mouth – this time granting him no mercy as she slid him in and out of her mouth with the slightest bit of suction. This time it was his hands on her head encouraging her to speed up. He grabbed fistfuls of hair and she flirted with the idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine, but felt encouraged by the salty taste of precum filling her mouth. She picked up speed, and every breath steadily became a baritone moan from Harry. She released the suction around his cock with a loud pop, and turned her attention to his balls, making him gasp with surprise. She took one ball into her mouth and lightly sucked, repeating the action on the other, and then licked up the underside of his cock and teased the head again. 

Harry had to assert his dominance again, he was too much like the old, selfless, giving Harry. He noticed the younger woman fumbling around on the nightstand for a condom, clearly having the same intentions as he. She was on her hands and knees. Perfect, he thought. 

The younger man took the chance to grab her wrists, managing to seize the abandoned tie in the process, weaving and sealing her hands with it against the bed-frame glimmering in the darkness, leaving her with no other option than to remain on her knees, her body fully exposed to him. Rather than this being the line drawn in the sand for the young journalist, she wholly accepted this abrupt change, welcoming his touch. The condom she’d grabbed was still between her fingers as if holding a cigarette, so he wedged it out of her fingers, and tore the wrapping off using his teeth with an accompanying growl. In careful, characteristically Harry Sullivan fashion, he slid the condom down his length, ensuring it was intact and neatly applied. 

Sarah wiggled her ass, inviting his touch again, and he responded with a circling caress and then a loud, firm slap across her right ass cheek. She gasped with exhilaration, but encouraged him to repeat the action on her left cheek. He grabbed her by the waist and guided the head of his cock at her entrance. He lingered there for a moment, knowing she was expecting him to slide right in. She tried to push back to guide him further inside her, but he was having none of it. He tightened his grip around her waist, and Sarah squirmed with frustration, which made Harry snicker. This was exactly what he wanted. Helpless, feminist, headstrong Sarah Jane Smith, all bound up and legs open. And it was all for him. 

He leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it back with a tug, making the younger woman instinctively groan, in a guttural way he hoped to hear again. 

“P…please Harry…” she gasped.

“Please what, Miss Smith?” he smirked into her ear, knowing exactly what she’d say in response.

“Get. In. Me. Now.” 

He thought about this for a moment (but only a moment), and abruptly slid inside her, just as she was about ready to protest again. It was as if the breath had been knocked out of both of them simultaneously, and the lovers couldn’t help but just surrender – just for a moment - to the pleasure surging through their bodies. Harry bent down and leisurely turned Sarah’s face to the side to kiss her on the lips, tenderly working his way from lips to neck, and neck down the centre of her back. He licked the taste of her sweat off his lips and began to move inside her. 

She was so fucking wet already, that he thrust in and out of her with ease. She was already struggling to hold herself up by her bound arms, so he assisted her by holding her torso. Her hands gripped the bedpost so hard her knuckles were whitening, and her palms were slipping from the sweat. He slid in and out of her at a frustratingly slow pace. She was practically halfway there already, so loose that she barely registered his presence inside her. 

“More, Harry…m…more….” 

More?! he thought, as he was already as far in as she could take him. 

“…you c-can do better than – ah – that!” 

“So greedy, Miss Smith. I’m not sure if you deserve it now,” he said, attempting to keep his voice steady. 

Sarah practically sobbed with frustration, “please, Harry…please….I’m so c…close!”

She was right of course, he could feel her pelvic walls beginning to close around him already. Moving forward to grab the bed frame for support, he obliged her pleas and transitioned his measured speed into a relentless pounding against her cervix. Her body arched as she cried out with delight, meaning he’d found just the right spot within her.

“Again…please…Harry…ah!” she gasped with all the oxygen she could muster as he pounded into her again, and again, and again. 

She was so close now she was practically shaking. She willed him with her mind to keep going, for the love of all that is holy keep going. 

One more time.

And he obeyed as she screamed, digging her fingernails into her palms as her orgasm shook her to her core, rippling through her body and throbbing at her centre. The pulsing of her walls drove Harry over the edge as well, doubling over her limp body with a sharp cry and final thrust into her. The two lovers collapsed onto the bed together, with Harry eventually finding the energy to reach over and lazily undo the tie around Sarah’s hands.

They rested against each other’s exhausted bodies, and Harry smiled at the thought of the feminist rant Sarah would give her in the morning for this misogynistic display.


End file.
